


Arbores

by chasing_the_sterek



Series: Inktober 2017 [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Autumn, Fluff, Gen, Inktober, Leaf piles, SO MUCH FLUFF, im writin it, jumping in said piles, leaves, run-up to Hallowe'en, this is either a rad bromance or some rad romance depending on which goggles you wear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 15:12:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasing_the_sterek/pseuds/chasing_the_sterek
Summary: The leaves crunch underfoot.///Sometimes it's nice to have fun with things. Even if your flatmate thinks you're childish.





	Arbores

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going where I've never gone before! Inktober, here I come. I've found a list from somewhere (I'll have to find them again to give them credit, I think) and I'm ready to go.
> 
> Today's prompt was "autumn/plants"

The leaves crunch underfoot.

It's not so noisy that it's extremely noticeable, but were John to be pursuing a suspect rather than just walking aimlessly then the leaves are thick enough on the ground that anybody listening would be able to tell his direction, speed, etcetera. Sherlock can probably tell John about the biking accident he had when he was seven from the way he just kicked a branch aside.

Apparently, though, this is yet another thing Sherlock seems to be above; for every eighty-three leaves John steps onto, Sherlock manages to quietly crush only two. John doesn't know the exact numbers, but he'll bet a tenner Sherlock does.

He opens his mouth to ask why Sherlock joined him on his walk, anyway (he's never shown any signs of wanting to come before, let alone been so eager, and admittedly John is suspicious), when he spots it.

The mother of all leaf piles.

By the time Sherlock has registered the change in the leaf-crunch of John's footsteps (which is immediately) and turned around to look (which is a split-second after said immediately), John is already halfway there, a whoop bubbling up and out of his mouth.

"What are you -"

John laughs, the suspicion and confusion and frustration from five minutes ago gone. "Come on, Sherlock!"

"This is pointless, possibly even futile -" Sherlock shouts back, apparently having never experienced the joys of such things. "I fail to understand what you stand to gain by jumping into what is just a pile of leaves -"

John turns, hollers "Yeah, but it's a _huge_ pile of leaves!", and catapults himself backwards into it.

Well, when he says _catapults,_ he really means _trips over a large and previously invisible log._ But it achieves about the same effect, and Sherlock's I'm-worried-about-your-head face disappears as John is engulfed in leaves.

Hands reach down, shifting the pile aside, and light filters back in. John grins innocently up at Sherlock, who raises an eyebrow at him, apparently unimpressed.

_Insult in three, two. . ._

"I'm concerned about your mental capacity."

John attempts to throw a leaf at him and misses miserably. He starts to laugh, and then chokes on some leaf-grit or whatever is in these piles. "Don't be." He extends a hand upwards. "Fancy joining?"

He would've thought it impossible, but the eyebrow goes higher. "Not in the slightest," Sherlock drawls. "I -"

"Get in here, you twat," John says, and yanks him in. Sherlock's sentence dissolves into a satisfying yelp of surprise.

"Don't look so smug," Sherlock hisses.

There are leaves in his hair.

John doesn't bother trying to take him seriously.

**Author's Note:**

> One down, thirty-ish to go!
> 
> Hope that wasn't too terrible. I heavily edited this before it went out, lmao, but at least I don't hate it now.


End file.
